dwell in possibility

“I dwell in possibility…”

Oh Emily Dickinson, the required reading excitement (or demise) of every middle and high school student in the US. I’ll admit though, I absolutely loved the poetry topic. Even though it only came once a year, I found a friend in each poet that we studied.

The other day I was feeling particularly distraught about something, when suddenly this thought popped into my mind: “I dwell in possibility.” I remembered that the poem was supposedly written about the power of poetry over prose, which I can still relate to – and could still write about, but the thought spiraled into a different analysis. My first thought? “So do I, Emily Dickinson, so do I.” And so do a lot of people, probably.

Most people who know me well would probably not describe me as “optimistic.” I tend to over-analyze and dive straight into the worst emotions – because if I don’t deal with them right away, they will linger. But this quote helped me to remember that there are other forms of “optimism”: one is hope (which deserves its own post), and the other, possibility. Does anyone else feel particularly wired to dwell in possibility? Constantly envisioning “what could be.” Always dreaming up something new. Thriving off of that adrenaline rush that makes you create. Somehow finding a way to keep moving forward and to keep risking your pride for the sake of seeing “what might happen.” Not to be confused with restlessness or discontentedness. There might be a fine line between them, but I think you can be content/grateful and still be a dreamer.

I started thinking about the “letdown” that dwelling in possibility can bring. That heightened heart-rate that drives you to pursue a “new idea” or a “new possibility,” only to realize that it was a dead end. The embarrassment of being vulnerable only to be received with the remarks of an unimpressed critic.

Sometimes it seems like it would be better to just go through the motions – no dreams, no new ideas. Just wander, gracefully floating through whatever might come our way. But reality has shown me how much I don’t want to live a life like that. Learn to work hard and keep a level-head, but always “keep some room for the unimaginable.”

In fact, I don’t think that being wired for possibility is such a bad thing. We were created for a reason and, to quote C.S. Lewis:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

xoxo,

roriesig

ADP_2658edit1photo by Andy Paulissen, dancer Jordan Ippolito for this video

#FridayIntroductions

Hello, this is Rorie. My real person name is Erin Rea Ochocki – but people have called me Rorie as a nickname and a joke for years (it started with Gilmore Girls, referencing Rory, but then took on a life of it’s own, which is a long and slightly hilarious story for another day). But soon enough it became my stage name – because no one wants to try and say “Ochocki,” and there’s about a 75% chance that you are pronouncing it wrong in your head anyway. But that doesn’t matter, because you can remember how to pronounce “Rorie” and you’re good to go. I’m in my mid-twenties and I currently live by the river on the line of Alexandria, VA and Washington D.C.

Anyways, my blog is a good place to go for anyone who has ever wondered more of the story behind “roriemusic.” I’m trying to share my heart a bit more on here, for those who are interested in the real life side of my story. I’d recommend scrolling back to some of the archived posts (there aren’t too many yet, so it won’t take you a million years) for more heart-sharing. If there’s something else you want to read about (that doesn’t involve the revealing of my deepest, darkest secrets), please suggest away! Who knows, maybe you’ll relate to or resonate with something in here too.

It wasn’t until four years ago that I felt that first feeling of coming “full circle.” I had a blog under a different name, and wrote some pretty honest posts that are now nowhere to be found (I tried to search for them, and actually can’t find them)…but I do remember referencing a story from a Beth Moore bible study series. She talked about how, when she was a kid, she used to line her stuffed animals up in a row and pretend she was a teacher. Over time, she became increasingly shy and nervous to share her gift and dream with others. But one day, she found herself writing a book and speaking at conferences, and that was when she felt this feeling of coming full-circle…she wasn’t scared anymore. But it didn’t just happen. It was a whole journey to get there.

A LOT has happened since I wrote that first post about that feeling: I moved to New York, worked at a really interesting non-profit called Nomi Network, where I learned more about the world and the presence and importance of hope, learned to perform on stage again without feeling SUPER nervous (you may or may not know this about me – it depends on whether you know me in person or online: I’m naturally fairly introverted, but I love people a lot and have learned over the years to share more of myself as an artist and person without being too shy), met the man of my dreams (very unexpectedly! this is definitely a story for yet another day), moved to DC, married that guy!, started this thing called “Rorie,” 🙂 starting working a second job (again, and again), missed a lot of my friends, met new friends, released an EP, made mistakes, laughed a lot, cried a lot, etc.. You can assume there is a lot being left out of this description, and none of this has exactly concluded…it keeps going on in one way or another, and I guess, if we’re looking at it this way: a circle never ends.

I’ve had this feeling lately that there isn’t going to be just one moment in life that shimmers with a sense of arrival. Sometimes we are led out of a season, but we are always led into something else. Because life is not so much about what you do: your career, your accomplishments, etc. but more about who you are.

For me, music is something I do (and love, a whole lot): but not who I am. I am a follower of Christ, a wife, a daughter, a sister, and a friend. Everything I do should be an out-pouring of that first title on the list. Loving because I have been loved. Listening because there is something to be learned. Writing because there is something to be said. Singing because, how can I not? 

Knowing who you are first will bring life into everything you do in this life. And realizing that this summer feels like coming full circle all over again.

if you’d like to read more: click here to find my first ever Rorie blog post, and scroll back through some old ones to catch up – lots of new and fun content coming this fall!

xoxo,

roriesig

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